Alone, Again
by FalseFacts
Summary: They are like a sirens warning call going off, yet they are seen and heard only by me. I alone must brace myself for what comes next. One-shot.


I am alone. I am alone and for this I am often asked "Why?"

Most would assume that I isolate my self because I am shy; awkward even. I am shy at times but that is not the true cause for my seclusion. Others would then think that I simply dislike people; that I am a misanthropic. This is also untrue; I quite like people, they fascinate me.

I think when I am old I shall be very much like those old folks that they show on TV. You know the ones who sit on the porch and watch the local children; their life passing them bye but since death is so close they don't really care. I've always been a good observer.

I am alone because that's where I get left. It's kind of like when you drop something, it doesn't move, does it? Exactly. I get left where I fall, just like all useless things that people have gotten tired of.

Perhaps I am not useless but I do tend to get dropped a lot. I mean I eventually get picked up again, sometimes it takes a long while but I know I'll be held again. The longest I've gone waiting for someone, anyone to come by, was roughly 6 months. Those months were what I'd call boring and what my mom would call a nightmare. I spent most of those months just sitting there and thinking about everything that was wrong with myself; the other half was spent sleeping. I slept a lot and yet dreamed so little. I can't dream when I haven't left the house in a long while.

I've attempted to try and catch someone's attention while I lay there on the ground, half dead but the trouble is no one likes something so used and so desperate. People say that they wouldn't mind being around someone whose been mistreated because they want to help but they don't. People want to see joy and confidence. I think the reason is because no one wants to play with a used and damaged toy; it's no fun. Everybody wants that new shinny thing in the window, not me.

I tried smiling once and acting all lovely and sweet but I'm a terrible actress. If I smile in such a state I start tearing up and people see it so well. People sure are interesting, they really are.

The people who do pick me up are not in it for the long hall but they pretend that they are. They'll turn to me and they'll say "If I moved away would you miss me?" or something along those lines and they'll say it so gently and with such sad eyes that I have to say "Yes."

I guess it's kind of true; I will miss them for a while. It's just I'm not going to cry or anything over it. They aren't meant to last, nothing in this world is. I've learned to accept this. The trouble is the people who find me and take me home for a bit are always damaged themselves. They need me for support and guidance, that's why they honestly believe that our "friendship" will last. They think that they will always need me. They don't though. I teach them what they needed to learn about themselves and then they find someone else, someone better.

I am happy for them, I honestly am. They deserve someone new and warm. I am cold and embittered; it is not pleasant even for myself. I can't be friends with them after they've learned to replace me because they don't look at me anymore and because it simply would only be a hindrance in there growth as a full fledged human being.

I am alone, again. I saw that look and I knew it was coming.

There is a look that they always give as part of the subtle signs that they are preparing to leave me. They are like a sirens warning call going off, yet they are seen and heard only by me. I alone must brace myself for what comes next.

It's a simple look. They avert their eyes ever so delicately during a conversation that I must prompt. They speak so softly, like one would at a funeral. Then an unknown face appears beside them, the face of their new friend. Their eyes widen and their lips move fluently as an agreeable and humorous conversation ensues and it all happens right before my very eyes.

I can feel my very skull hit the hard cement. I know then as they walk off, I still smiling, that we will no longer speak such pleasantries. For she has left and I must wait here alone, on the ground. I wait and weep and think and sleep. I will not dream tonight for all I will see is that look in her eyes.

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**I hoped you like this little one-shot, Reviews are ****always a****ppreciated. Thank you ^_^**


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